If Your Heart's Still Mine
by JenniGellerBing
Summary: *FINAL CHAPTER UP* Thanks for reading! She thought her life was crazy while he was gone... but once he's back, one lie could tear them apart forever... C/M story
1. Prologue

A/N: Here's my new fic! The first chapter is really just an introduction. After the first chapter, you may think this has been done before... but I don't think it has. Just remember, the first chapter is the prologue_._ LOL... hope you enjoy! Oh, and if anyone can find the line from my favorite Matthew Perry movie... you win the prize! 

Disclaimer: I don't own the _Friends_ or "Miss You" by Aaliyah 

****

If Your Heart's Still Mine

PROLOGUE

__

March, 1986

Monica walked through the supermarket, her hand over her bulging stomach. She was starving, and they'd just run out of milk. Slowly, she walked to the checkout counter, holding the milk and a box of doughnuts.

She caught stranger's glances as they passed - sad, pitying, presumptive looks. She could almost hear them whispering _How sad_ as she walked by. 

__

Yes, it is sad, isn't it? Monica wanted to shriek. _Why don't you all jsut stare and whisper some more? Or perhaps you'd like to ask some questions? How many times? Was he your first? Does it hurt? Go on, I dare you to. Ask me how I got pregnant at 16._

Monica tossed a girl slightly older than her a hateful look. The girl turned red and scampered away as Monica set her milk and doughnuts down on the check-out counter. Without making eye contact, the cashier rang up the items, and Monica hurried - well, as much as you could hurry when you were eight and a half months pregnant - out to the parking lot, where her brother Ross was waiting in his car. 

Monica dropped the food into the car and slid in herself. Ross stuck out his arm to help her, but Monica shooed him away. "I can get in myself," she snapped. Ross brought his hands away and watched as Monica awkwardly squatted to get into the car. She finally made it in and heaved a sigh. 

They drove home in silence. Monica stared out the window at the familiar landmarks of her hometown. There was the park she and Ross had played in as children. There was the burger joint where she'd watched as her best friend Rachel's gotten her first kiss - at age 12. There's the doctor's office where she'd gone for a check-up last week...

Monica sighed again.

"What?" Ross asked dutifully.

"Nothing." _Sigh._

"Come on, Mon. What's the matter?"

"I just miss him."

Ross glanced at his sister, who was staring out the window with a sad look in her eyes. "You have to forget him, Mon. He's not coming home for a long time. And by that time - "

"I know, thank you," Monica said. "I just wish... I just wish he could be here when the baby is born."

Ross looked at her again, startled. "You're not thinking about telling him, are you?"

"Well, why not? He deserves to know that he has a child."

"But everybody agreed it was better not to! He's across the world, it wouldn't do any good. He'd probably tell you to give it up, which you'd - "

"Never do," Monica finished for her brother. "I know. I know."

They drove the rest of the way in silence. When they pulled up in front of the house, Ross got out of the car and ran around the other side to help Monica out. Grumbling about being treated like a child, Monica let herself he helped out of the car. Once she was on her feet, Ross started back to the car.

"You're not staying?" Monica asked.

"No, sorry. I've got classes at eight tomorrow," Ross explained.

"Great. So I have to explain to Mom why there's a giant box of donuts in here. I was going to blame it on you," Monica mumbled.

"Right," Ross said, kissing his little sister on the forehead. "Call me if you need anything, 'Kay?"

"Yeah. Bye." Monica walked up to her house and opened the door. "I'm home!" she called, but there was no answer. She found a note of the kitchen counter.

__

Monica,

Went to dinner party at Thompson's, will be home late. Invite Rachel over to stay with you

Mom and Dad

Figures, Monica thought. She put the milk in the fridge and opened the box of donuts. She shoved one in her mouth and carried three more upstairs to her room. She could call Rachel in a little bit.

She sat down at her desk, picking up a book titled _What to Expect When Your Expecting._ She'd read most of it already. She almost immediately set it down and picked up her trigonometry book. She was going to a special school three times a week so she could graduate from high school, but she was struggling with math. 

A picture fluttered out of the book, and Monica smiled as she picked it up. There he was, looking as cute as ever. They were sitting on the sand together, and he was holding her tightly. It was probably the middle of August... she had that sad look in her eyes, like she knew it was ending...

*************

__

Summer, 1985

They were summer lovers. They'd dated for over a year before that summer, the summer they went all the way. He was so gentle and caring - they were both doing it for their first time. It hurt when he went inside her, and Monica cried out, but he kissed her tears away, and everything was okay. After that, she fell even deeper in love with him.

Monica had never loved someone like she loved Chandler Bing. She wanted to have him completely, wanted him to have her. Their friends all pretended to be sick when they were around each other, because they were always holding hands, looking into each other's eyes, kissing and smiling and being wholly in love. 

Monica thought they would be together forever. Sure, he was a year older and would be going off to college in September, but he'd promised he would go to NYU like Ross, Boston College - somewhere close, somewhere he could fly in from or drive from all the time. Somewhere where they could still be together. 

She was surprised and horrified, then, when he announced he had been accepted to Oxford. He'd shown up at her house one August night, with a sad look in his eyes.

"Monica," he said. "We need to talk."

Monica was unconcerned as he sat her down in their living room. "What's up?" she asked.

"I'm going to Oxford," he blurted out.

Monica cocked her head. "Pardon?"

"I'm going there for - for college."

Monica shook her head. "No - no, you're can't. You're grades aren't good enough!"

"Thanks," he said, smirking. "I know, but... well, I think my mom pulled some strings. She really wanted me to go there." Nora Bing was a famous romance writer, and Monica knew she had connections around the world.

"But - you can't go there," Monica said. "It's - Oxford's in England!"

"I know, honey," he whispered, pulling her closer. "I'm so sorry. But I have to go."

"No you _don't!_" Monica cried, standing up. "Just tell them - tell them you can't go!"

"You can't just turn down _Oxford_, Monica!" Chandler stood up, looking angry. "Look, I know this isn't what we thought was going to happen, but there's nothing I can do!"

"There has to be!" Monica wailed. "If you really loved me, you would get out of it." She stared at Chandler's crumpled face and ran up to her room.

Monica cried for hours that night. She refused to believe that Chandler was leaving her. He _couldn't be!_ They'd been together for so long; she'd given him her flower; she _loved him!_ He'd promised they would be together forever. She thought they were going to get married... but now, all of that was gone. 

The next day, they met for breakfast. They talked, she cried, and they decided that they would stay together for the rest of the summer but end it after that. They couldn't have a long distance relationship.

They savored every moment of those last weeks. They walked at the beach, they had fancy dinners and stayed home watching old movies and eating take-out, and they had more sex in one month than Monica would ever have in her life. 

But then the last day came. Ross and Monica went with Chandler to the airport. Monica had bags under her eyes and was exhausted - she'd been up crying the whole night before. But she promised to stay strong for when Chandler left. 

Chandler hugged his best friend good-bye and then turned to Monica. She threw her arms around him, trying not to cry. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her one last time. Monica didn't want to let go.

"Good-bye, Monica," he whispered tenderly into her ear. "I love you."

"I love you too," she said back, swallowing hard. She and Ross watched as Chandler walked toward the gate. Right before he disappeared, he turned around and mouthed, "Love you," one more time. 

And then he was gone.

Monica fell into Ross's arms, sobbing. For once, she didn't care that people were staring as she walked through the airport. She continued to cry as they drove home, and cried all day in her room. She was miserable without Chandler.

The next week she started throwing up all the time, and felt tired and light-headed. She refused to believe the signs until she fainted one day at school a few weeks later. She was rushed to the hospital, and, just as she'd begun to suspect - Monica was pregnant. 

Her parents were furious. They immediately deemed Chandler a "horrible boy" who took advantage of young girls. As much as Monica explained that she and Chandler had been exclusive, that she had _wanted_ it, her parents hated him.

And in bouts of rage and pain, Monica thought she hated him too. She hated him for putting her in this situation and leaving her all alone. She hated him for refusing to turn Oxford down, for flying off to another country and leaving her in America, alone and pregnant at sixteen.

Her parents had forced her to drop out of school, and refused to let her tell Chandler or any of her friends except Rachel. Monica was crushed that she couldn't tell Chandler. Maybe if he knew, she thought, he would come home! But her parents wouldn't let her contact him at all, and soon his letters and calls, after being denied for months, stopped coming. And the only reminder Monica had of him were the notes and cards he'd sent her, the few pictures her parent's hadn't confiscated, and the baby growing inside her stomach.

************

Monica put the picture down and tried to think about something else. She picked up her phone and quickly dialed Rachel's number.

"Rach? It's me."

"Hey, Mon. What's up?"

"Well, my parents are gone for a while, so do you want to come over here to hang out? Well, and baby-sit," Monica joked.

"Sure,'' Rachel said. "I'll be right over." 

"All right," Monica said, putting the phone back on the cradle. She quickly hid the pictures of Chandler she'd been looking at. Rachel, who had thought Chandler was okay when he was home, now hated him for leaving Monica. Rachel didn't like Monica dwelling on him.

The doorbell rang a couple minutes later, and Monica waddled - for there was no other word for it - downstairs to answer it. Rachel was at the front step. 

"Hey," she said. Monica was about to say hi back when she was overcome with pain. She leaned over, trying to grab her knees but realizing she couldn't. Rachel, seeing her friend's agony, grabbed her by the shoulders. Monica bent over for several more seconds and then stood up straight, breathing heavily.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asked, looking very white.

"Yeah. It was probably just Braxton-Hicks contractions," Monica said quickly. She'd read all about them.

"Oh, right - but this late?" Rachel wondered, also having read the pregnancy books with her best friend.

"Yeah, sure," Monica said nonchalantly. "I'm fine now." 

The girls went to the den and put a movie in the VCR. Monica was fine for about another hour, when she gasped in pain again. Rachel turned to her friend.

"Mon? Honey, are you okay?" she asked worriedly as Monica clutched her stomach.

Monica, her face tight with torment, nodded. "I think so."

"Do you need anything?"

"No, I'll be fine." Monica took a deep breath and sat back into the couch. 

"See? All better. Except - I have to pee. I'll be right back." Taking Rachel's arm up, Monica stood and walked into the bathroom. But before she got there, she felt something warm running down her leg.

"Crap," she muttered. _Did I just pee without realizing it?_ It certainly felt like it...

"Oh, no," she murmured. "No!" Monica suddenly realized what was going on. She called for Rachel. "Rach! Rachel!"

"What's the matter?" Rachel asked, running up to Monica.

"Rach," she said, a mixture of delight and terror on her face. "I think my water just broke!"

Moments later, they were in the car, speeding towards the hospital. "Rachel, slow down, the baby's not coming yet," Monica said.

"You don't know that!" Rachel screeched as she cut off a lady in a white truck. "Shit. Sorry! Shit!" she yelled out the window. Monica started to laugh, but stopped and squeezed her eyes closed as she felt another contraction. 

Rachel hurried Monica out of the car and into the hospital, where she was immediately admitted to the maternity ward. Rachel called Mr. and Mrs. Geller, and Ross, but that was all. The rest of Monica's family had no idea she was pregnant. 

However, the delivery went faster than expected, and before Monica's family had a chance to get to the hospital, she was in labor. Monica squeezed Rachel's hand and they both screamed, but then - it was over. 

In tears, Monica looked for her baby. "Where's my baby?" she asked, sobbing in happiness and pain. "Where's my baby?"

"Right here, miss," a nurse said. "We're just cleaning her up."

"I had a girl?" she asked, turning to Rachel. Rachel nodded. "Oh my God, I had a girl!"

A little bit later, Monica was holding her daughter for the first time. "Hello, my little baby girl. You are so beautiful. You are the most beautiful little baby in the world. I'm your Mommy. And this is your Aunt Rachel." Monica smiled up at Rachel, who looked like she was about to cry.

"I'm her _aunt?_" she asked happily.

"Of course! And her godmother," Monica assured her. Rachel let out a cry of laughter and touched the little baby's cheek tenderly.

Then, Monica's parents and brother rushed in. "Oh, my goodness," Mrs. Geller cried, seeing her daughter holding a little baby. 

"It's a girl," Monica said, grinning at her parents. They all looked at the baby for a few minutes, and then Monica said, "Could you guys give me some time alone with her?" They all nodded and left silently.

"That was Uncle Ross, and Grandma and Grandpa. But your Daddy's not here. He's in another country. He doesn't know about you, and I don't know if he ever will. But I know he would love you to pieces, just like he used to love Mommy. So don't be mad at him, okay? Because I'm not either. I love him."

She called her family back into the room.

"You guys," she said, pointing her baby at the small group. "I'd like you to meet Elizabeth Jean Geller-Bing."

__

Off to college, yes, you went away 

Straight from high school you up and left me

We were close friends, also lovers

Did everything for one another

Now you're gone and I'm lost without you here now

But I know I gotta live and make it somehow...

Aaliyah, "Miss You"


	2. All Alone

A/N: Hi! Thank you for all the reviews! I feel so loved :D And congrats to Lindsey... the line was "Shit. Sorry! Shit!" and it's from Fools Rush In, which is like my favorite movie! And the prize is... a big hug from me! *Hugs Lindsey* Don't you feel special? Hehe, anyway, hope you like chapter two!

CHAPTER TWO

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June, 1987

"Elizabeth Jean, where have you gone?" Monica shouted, running through the house with a phone clutched in the crook of her neck. "Oh! Oh, yes, Mr. Franklin, I'm here. No, I was just calling for my daughter. She's one. Yes, I'm just 19," she said with a sigh. "Oh my gosh, really? Oh, thank you so much, Mr. Franklin, you won't regret this!" She hung up the phone and let out a cheer as Elizabeth, now a little over one, catapulted herself at her legs. "Whoa!" She picked her up. "Babygirl, Mommy just got a job in the city! Yeah!" Elizabeth grinned widely, not quite understanding.

"Mom!" Monica cried, racing into the kitchen. "Mom! I got the job at Morningstar's!"

"Oh, that's wonderful, darling," Mrs. Geller said with a tight smile. "Maybe you'll be able to pay your own rent at that apartment by next year."

Monica swallowed hard at her mother's snippety comment. _I should be used to these by now,_ she thought. Mrs. Geller always seemed to hate Monica, always just wanted to get rid of her. She suspected that was why she and Monica's father had agreed to pay for the first few months rent at Monica and Elizabeth's new apartment in the city.

Trying to brush off the criticism, Monica carried Elizabeth upstairs to their room, which was full of boxes. "Tomorrow's moving day, Lizzie! Tomorrow we're off on our own!"

It was almost summertime. Monica had graduated from high school without a ceremony, but quietly, receiving her diploma in private. She'd missed most of her senior year, spent the past three years at home, and had not experienced life as a teenager - no, she'd been too busy raising her child all on her own. Because Monica had not spoken to Chandler since the day he'd left. He still had no idea that he had a child back home, and Monica had decided to keep it that way. 

Now she was 19, and the next day she was moving to a tiny one-bedroom apartment in Manhattan. Monica had always wanted to live there, and her parents had agreed after her many arguments that she and Elizabeth could live on their own - not the least being that Ross would be eight blocks away, starting his senior year at NYU, ready to help if she needed anything. Now, with the job as a waitress/assistant chef at Morningstar's, Monica would be set. She would also start going to school at night when the fall semester started.

Monica's life would not be easy - she knew this. But she craved to be on her own, raising her daughter like a real mother, not like some teenager stuck at home with her parents. She was going to make something of herself; she was going to give Elizabeth a good home. She was leaving.

She hummed merrily as she loaded neatly folded baby clothes into a box. "Goodness, Elizabeth, you have more clothes than Aunt Rachel does!" Monica told her daughter, who was playing with a Barbie on the bed.

"Did someone say Aunt Rachel?" a familiar voice called. Monica and Elizabeth both perked up as Rachel Greene, new nose and all, poked her head through the doorway. 

"Hi, Rach!" Monica said as Rachel came over for a hug. Rachel was going to be a junior at Dartmouth University in the fall, and she was home for the summer - when she wasn't vacationing around the world.

"How was the Caribbean?" Monica asked as Rachel went over to kiss Elizabeth.

"Oh, it was gorgeous," Rachel replied. "Check out my tan!" She lifted her shirt a little to show Monica her dark brown stomach. "It was a blast! In fact, I even picked up a guy."

"Don't tell Ross," Monica kidded.

"I thought he was with Carol," Rachel said in surprise. 

"Oh, he is, but he's still in love with you," Monica said. Rachel nodded shyly. "Okay, so this guy?"

"Oh, he is one hunk! His name is Evan and he's 23 - plus he just lives over in Jersey!"

"Oh, that's great," Monica said, trying to keep the envy out of her voice.

"Oh, Mon, I wish you coulda come," Rachel said emphatically, wrapping one arm around her best friend. Monica had been invited on several of the Greene's vacations - before Elizabeth. 

"Yeah, me too," Monica sighed, looking at her daughter. 

They didn't talk anymore about the Caribbean, but discussed Monica's new neighborhood, new job, and new life. Later that night, after Monica put Elizabeth to sleep in her crib, she and Monica climbed into Monica's large queen bed. Rachel reached under the pillow, trying to find a patch of cold, and pulled out - a picture.

"Mon, what's - oh, no, you _do not_ keep this under your pillow!" Rachel cried, sitting up and flipping on the light next to her bed. Monica reached for the picture and tried to snatch it away, but Rachel held it away. "I don't believe you."

"Come on, Rach, it's not a big deal," Monica said, turning red. 

"Monica, you keep a picture of _Chandler Bing_ under your pillow - it _is_ a big deal!" Rachel cried. "Honey, please don't tell me you're not over him."

"What if I'm not?" Monica countered, grabbing the photograph as Rachel's jaw dropped.

"Monica, it's been almost two _years_," Rachel said. "This - this is just sad."

"Will you just drop it?" Monica snapped. 

"You're not thinking of trying to find him, are you?" Rachel asked incredulously.

"He's Elizabeth's father!" Monica cried. "He deserves to know her, and she deserves to know him! Just because I fucked up doesn't mean the two people that mean the most to me should suffer..." Monica trailed off, trying not to break into sobs.

"You can always explain to her that you were very young and Chandler had to... go to England," Rachel said dully. "Listen, if he can just leave you like he did, Lizzie deserves a better father."

"He didn't know I was pregnant," Monica argued. "I didn't even know! He would have stayed, I know he would have - "

"No, you _don't_ know that," Rachel insisted. "He might have just run away anyway! Or worse, he would have forced you to get rid of it! Monica, I hate to say this, but I've always agreed with your parents on this one. Telling Chandler would have been a mistake."

"All of this was a mistake," Monica moaned, rolling over. Rachel lay down, and they did not speak for the rest of the night. 

The next day was a frenzy of cleaning and packing and loading stuff into cars. Ross and Rachel both helped, and before one, everything was loaded into their two cars. 

"Bye, Mom," Monica said, stiffly hugging her mother. "Bye, Daddy." She hugged her father, and during the hug, he slipped a stack of bills into her hand. "Dad - " she whispered.

"Take them, my little Harmonica," Mr. Geller said. "Please." Monica glanced down and saw it was a stack of twenties. 

"Thank you, Daddy," she murmured. Her parents hugged and kissed Elizabeth, asked her to call when she was settled in, and with one last wave, they drove away. 

Ross helped the girls unload, kissed them all good-bye, and left for a date with Carol. Rachel and Monica, taking turns unloading boxes and playing with Elizabeth, started to put together the apartment. 

After Rachel left that night, and when her daughter was asleep, Monica looked around at her apartment. _Her apartment._ It had a nice ring to it. Sure, the place was small and cramped, but it was in a pretty good area, and her work was close, as was the daycare center Monica would take Elizabeth to three days a week (Mrs. Geller would watch her on one of the other days, and until school started, Ross, Rachel, and Carol would take her the other). But despite the humble furnishings and close quarters, Monica had her own place for the first time in her life. It was an amazing feeling. 

She started work the next day, and for a while things went smoothly. She used coupons for food, didn't buy any new clothes or furnishings, and walked instead of riding the subway. But soon, the money her parent's had given her and her measly, one-a-month paycheck just wasn't making ends meet. Monica couldn't sleep at night, but was too busy stressing about how many days they had left before she had to either go on welfare - something incredibly shameful - or go back to her parents, which was, perhaps, worse. 

Monica hated the feeling that she wasn't providing well enough for her daughter. She worked long, hard shifts at the restaurant, but between food, her portion of the rent, and childcare, there just wasn't enough. Rachel brought Elizabeth home from her place one night at the end of July to find Monica, surrounded by bills and paperwork, slumped over at the kitchen table, sobbing.

"I just can't do it," she cried as Rachel handed her tissues. "I don't have enough money! I'm going to apply for welfare tomorrow - my parents are going to kill me! My mother always thought I wouldn't make it alone, and she was right. I just - "

"Monica! Calm down! You're getting all crazy and freaked out again!" Rachel soothed her friend. "Everything's gonna be fine, honey, just chill out!" Monica continued to wail into her arms, and the noise made little Elizabeth start to cry as well. "Listen, if you need some money, you _know_ I'll give you some!"

"Thanks, Rach, but I don't want your charity," Monica said, frustrated. She had way too much pride to accept money from her very well to do friend. 

"Not charity, a loan. I promise, I won't just be giving it to you. I'm gonna need it back, once you get back on your feet!"

"Right, like you're gonna need it back. You're Rachel Greene the trust-fund baby, helping her poor friend out of debt!" Monica said crossly.

"Monica, listen to me," Rachel said, getting sick of Monica's unwillingness to admit she needed help. "I'm not giving you money because I pity you. I respect you so much for raising this baby on your own! Oh, I can't _imagine_ what your doing for her, what your giving up! I think you are the bravest and strongest person I know. Please, Mon, just take the money." Rachel looked at her friend desperately. 

Monica sighed. "Well - I guess. But I promise, I'll pay you back as soon as I can - "

"You can pay me back whenever," Rachel assured her. "And if you ever need anything, even just a twenty for diapers or something, please know you can ask me!"

"Thanks, Rach." Monica looked at the floor as Rachel wrapped her arms around her friend. 

"I love you, Mon," Rachel said, hugging her tightly. 

Monica hated taking money from Rachel, but she knew that was what she had to do to feed her baby. Her parents weren't helping out with anything but rent and sometimes clothes for Elizabeth, whom, despite being Monica's offspring, they loved to death. 

Monica only wished her parents had loved her that much.

***********

A few hectic nights later, Monica was on the phone with the people from the junior college she was applying to, waiting to be told if they had any spots in their culinary class still open. She was also making cheap spaghetti with no sauce (she'd explained to Elizabeth that they needed to "pinch some pennies"), trying to calm the her daughter, who had a cold, and hurriedly cleaning the living room/dining room of the apartment, because Rachel was coming over for dinner. Someone buzzed, and Monica ran to the speaker, and, assuming it was Rachel, yelled, "Come on up!" and buzzed open the door. 

A minute later there was a knock on the door. Monica, still clutching the baby and the phone, opened the door.

The phone fell from the crook of her neck and her heart dropped. There was a man standing at the door, smiling at her. A man Monica didn't think she'd ever see again.

"Chandler?" 

_Come back to me_

Can you feel me

Hear me callin' for you

Cause it's, it's been too long and I'm lost without you

So what am I gonna do, said I've been needin' you

Wantin' you

Wonderin' if you're the same and who's been with you

Is your heart still mine, I wanna cry sometimes

A/N: Sorry if you thought this was a little predictable... it'll get better! Please review!

Jen


	3. Please Just Don't

CHAPTER THREE

Chandler's smiled faded slightly as he noticed the baby in Monica's arms. His cheeks, pink from the cold, lost some of their color 

"Miss Geller?" a voice squawked from inside the phone. "Miss Geller, are you there?" Monica didn't pick it up, and a second later she heard the dial tone buzzing, loud and annoying, in the silent apartment. Even Elizabeth had quieted to stare up at Chandler, who's blue eyes were so identical to hers.

"Monica," he whispered, looking from her to Elizabeth. Elizabeth, _their daughter._ "Hi."

"Hi," she said. 

"So you're... you're here," Monica said lamely.

"So are you," Chandler replied. He smiled at her, and Monica felt her legs actually shake as she smiled back. After almost two years, he still had enough effect on her to make her feels like throwing up and screaming at the same time. Chandler's smile disappeared at he looked at Elizabeth. "Mon," he said in a choked voice. "Is - is she - she's not - mine - ?"

Monica couldn't think, didn't think. "No," she blurted out. "She's not yours." _Wait... no? No? What the _hell_, Monica???_ _Yes, for God's sake, she's yours! _

Chandler visibly relaxed. "Oh," he said, looking awkward. "Okay. Well, I - I see your busy, so... um, I guess I'll go. I just wanted to - to say hi. I'm here until, uh, September 10th, if you maybe want to, um, get together. Sometime. I guess I'll be going. Bye." He turned and began to walk away.

"Chandler!" she called at his retreating back. _You can't just let him walk away. You're baby's father just came to say 'hi.' Don't - let - him - walk - away! _

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Do you want to maybe... meet for lunch tomorrow?"

Chandler grinned. "That would be great."

"Okay, well, there's this great little place, Morningstar's..."

And so, Monica made a date with her ex-boyfriend. When she closed the door, she leaned against it, breathing heavily. _Omigod, omigod, omigod_, she thought over and over. She didn't believe that she'd just talked to Chandler.

She came to her senses only when Elizabeth started hitting her shoulder. Monica absent-mindedly kissed her daughter on the top of her head. "That was Daddy, Lizzie," she whispered into Elizabeth's soft curls. "That was the man Mommy loves." Elizabeth frowned. 

There were several hard knocks on the door, and Monica jumped away in fright. "Who is it?"

"It's me!" Rachel said. Monica opened the door and saw a surprised Rachel standing there.

"Oh my _God!_" she cried. "You talked to him!" 

"Who, Chandler?" Monica said.

"Yes, _Chandler!_ Mon, you're going to lunch with him tomorrow? Wow, he looked good. Are you going to tell him about Lizzie? He looked sort of freaked out," Rachel babbled breathlessly.

"Rach, you sound like me," Monica said. "Yes. I talked to him. I don't know if I'm going to tell him. See, he sort of saw her, and asked, and I, uh, told him she wasn't his."

"You _what?_" Rachel screamed. 

"Well, c'mon, I can't just tell him right in the hallway! 'Yeah, Chandler, I had your baby a year ago, would you like to meet her?' That'd go over well," Monica said sarcastically. "Look, we're meeting for lunch tomorrow, so maybe I'll tell him then."

"You're not thinking of getting back together with him, are you?" Rachel asked.

"No! No, I'm not," Monica said, turning away. 

"Liar!" Rachel said, hitting Monica on the arm. Monica picked up Elizabeth again and carried her over to the playpen. "You're still in love with him. You want to be with him again."

"Well, of course I do!" Monica cried out. "I've wanted to be with him every single day since the day he left! I think about him all the time, day and night, whenever I see Lizzie, whenever I see a picture, whenever I see a couple - I think about him in the shower and while I'm brushing my teeth and when I'm walking to work - "

"Whoa, Mon!" Rachel said, aghast. "I - I had no idea. I'm sorry I teased you. I really didn't know."

"Nobody knows," Monica said despondently. "Why would I tell anyone? My parents hate him, you hate him, Ross hates him - and he doesn't know any of it. God, Rachel, I'm a terrible person for lying to him, aren't I?"

"No, you're not a terrible person," Rachel said, putting her arm around Monica and watching Elizabeth try to put some clothes on one of her dolls. "You're a very, very confused person."

*********

Monica stood near the door during her lunch break the next afternoon. She was starting to regret telling Chandler to meet her at her own work, because all the other waiters and waitresses knew her. They didn't, however, know that the man she was meeting was her baby's father.

She turned and looked inside the restaurant, taking her eyes off the street for a moment. Seconds later, a hand rested on her shoulder.

"Aargh!" Monica cried, jumping a foot in the air. She spun around, clutching her heart. "You scared me..." she trailed off at the sight of Chandler's dazzling eyes. 

"Wow," he muttered, brushing a stand of hair out of her face. "You're even more beautiful than before." Monica blushed crimson and led Chandler inside. 

They both pored over the menus for a few minutes. After they ordered (the waitress giggling as Monica pretended not to know her), Chandler asked, "So how've you been?"

"Tired," Monica replied instantly, and they both laughed. "How's Oxford?"

"Oh, it's okay," Chandler replied. "I mean, it's not - it's not really what _I_ wanted, you know? But I'll live. It makes my mom happy. What about you? What are you doing?"

"Working," Monica said without elaborating. She ignored the elbow in her side as one of her waitress friends, walked by.

"She - she is _your_ baby, isn't she?" Chandler asked out of the blue. 

"Well, um, yeah," Monica asked, suddenly embarrassed. _Ours, actually._

"I see," Chandler said, looking back at his menu. He looked disappointed and sheepish. "Is - is there a, ah, a father?"

"He's not really in the picture," Monica said, avoiding eye contact. "He's..." _He's sitting at this very table, sipping water and looking as cute as ever, despite the awkward look on his face and the way he keeps pulling at his collar._ "I don't see him much," she said sotto.

"I'm sorry," Chandler said uncomfortably.

_So am I._

They finished lunch with relative comfort. Monica was aware that she was either going to have to leave Chandler - possibly forever - or make a move. Always the gentleman, Chandler insisted on paying her share of the bill. She confessed to him, then, that she actually worked at Morningstar's and therefore got a discount on the food. She was afraid he would think he foolish for not telling him before, but he only laughed and offered to pay anyway.

They left the restaurant and stood out on the sidewalk, both feeling extremely uneasy. How do you end a meeting with the person you once loved, once made love to?

"Do you want to, maybe, ah, come over?" Monica asked, trying not to let herself over think the matter.

"I can't," Chandler said. 

"Oh," Monica said, blushing and looking at her feet. _Nice move, Mon._

"No, it's not like that!" Chandler said, automatically touching her chin and lifting her face to look at him. "It's just that I'm meeting some old friends in an hour or so. But I'd love - I'd love to hang out. Maybe tomorrow?"

"I'm working until five, and I can ask my mom to have the baby for a while longer. You want to, maybe, grab some dinner around six?" Monica offered.

"That'd be great," Chandler said, grinning genuinely at her. "It's a date." 

"Okay."

"Okay." Monica looked at Chandler, who seemed to be staring at her with his mouth open.

"Chandler?"

"Yeah?" he said, pulling his gaze to her eyes.

"Why're you staring at me?"

"I'm sorry," Chandler said, turning bright red. "It's just - I've missed you so much, Mon. I - I want you - "

"Don't," Monica said quickly. She couldn't hear anymore, couldn't hear the words that Chandler was about to say. "Please just don't."

"Why not?" he took a step closer to her, his voice breathy

"I have to go," Monica whispered. "I'll call you tomorrow." She turned away and raced down the street, her heart pounding furiously. 

They had been _that close_ to kissing. And she wanted it. She wanted it so much it hurt her physically to turn away. Her body, her heart, her soul, they all wanted him back. And only her mind refused to let her go.

Having Chandler back in the country was not a good thing. She might just do something reckless.

__

Now I'm sittin' here thinkin' 'bout you

And the days we used to share

It's drivin' me crazy

I don't know what to do

I'm just wonderin' if you still care

And I wanna let you know that it's killin' me

I know you got another life

You gotta concentrate, baby...


	4. Sixteen Again

A/N: Hey! Sorry this took so long! Hope you like this chapter! Don't have much else to say... *hugs everybody!!!* I'm in such a good mood! :D

Jen

Disclaimer: I don't own the _Friends _characters or Aaliyah's song "Miss You" but I _do_ own Elizabeth! Ha!

CHAPTER FOUR - Sixteen Again

Monica called Rachel as soon as she got home from work later that day. Elizabeth was watching a "Baby Songs" video in the living room, and Monica was pacing the 10 by 12 space.

"He almost _kissed_ me!" she exclaimed into the phone.

"What?"

"Yes, _kissed me._ And, oh my God, I wanted it so badly. It was like there was this magnetic pull, drawing our bodies together. I haven't felt that way since... well... since the day he left." She groaned, remembering the feeling. 

"Listen, I know how you feel, and I know you still love him - but it's _Chandler._ You guys have so much baggage, so much history - hell, you have present! You have Lizzie!"

"But it's not really _baggage,_" Monica rationalized. "We didn't end on bad terms, remember?"

"Uh, _yeah_, I remember. I remember him leaving you to go to school in Europe, I remember your heart breaking into a thousand pieces, I remember you giving birth to a baby alone, raising Liz - "

"Okay, I remember that too," Monica said, switching ears as Rachel rambled. "But Rach. Listen to me. He's right here in New York. He wants to see me again. And I _love him!_ How can us getting together be such a bad thing? Is the chance that I could finally be happy so awful?"

"He's leaving in September," Rachel said carefully.

"Well, that's a month," Monica said stubbornly. She sat down next to Elizabeth's high chair and began to absent-mindedly stroke her daughter's hair. "That's enough time."

"I don't want you to be hurt again. Do you know how difficult it is to find one thousand different pieces of a heart?" Rachel asked lightly.

"I can take care of myself. I won't let him hurt me." And with that, Monica hung up on her best friend.

She was up all night going over the previous day in her head. Being with Chandler had been like being on a roller coaster. She could remember the time they'd had two years before; she could remember his lips and his hands and everything she felt when she was with him. But she could also remember the months of pain and loneliness and despair she'd gone through after he'd left, and the fact that she was raising his child by herself. Monica was having a battle inside her head, a battle between her emotions and her common sense - her heart and her brain. One told her being with Chandler, even just for a month, would be the best thing that had ever happened to her. But she other reminded her of what she'd gone through before - and that was not something she wanted to go through again. 

Which part of her was right?

*******

The next night, Monica told her mom that she had to work an extra shift at the restaurant and asked if she could keep Elizabeth for an extra two hours. Mrs. Geller agreed. 

Monica put on a red dress that Rachel had loaned her a year ago for a birthday party and she'd never returned. She swept her hair up in a graceful bun and put on more make-up than she'd worn in months. She was just about to leave when the phone rang. 

"It's me," Rachel said. "I just want to tell you - don't do anything slutty."

"Same to you," Monica said, laughing.

Chandler had told her to meet him at a relatively nice restaurant near Central Park. "Relatively nice," however, was not the right word. The place was beautiful and fancy and sophisticated, and, Monica suspected, horribly expensive.

"Hello," Chandler said, coming up next to her as she stood in front of the place. He was holding a single red rose. 

"Hi," she whispered, taking the rose delicately. "Chandler, this place is so expensive... " she hissed.

"Don't worry about it," Chandler said. At the look on her face, he added, "Really. Just enjoy yourself." He held his arm out for her and she took it.

"So did they teach you manners is England?" Monica joked.

"Hey, I always had manners!" he argued playfully.

"You used to call me up and grunt, 'Dinner, ten minutes,' as a way of asking me out," Monica reminded him.

"Well, maybe I wasn't always so articulate," Chandler agreed with a grin that made Monica's knees turn to jelly.

They were immediately seated at a reserved table in the back, overlooking the park. Monica sipped the expensive water nervously, feeling extremely out of place. Her leg was jiggling, and Chandler reached out to stop it. Monica was startled at the feel of his hand on her thigh, but soon she relaxed. She was surprised when a glass of wine was placed in front of her.

"You're not 21 yet, are you?" she asked, smiling.

"I've got connections," he answered coolly, sipping his own.

"I feel a little out of place amid all the thousand dollar evening gowns and Tiffany necklaces," Monica whispered to him.

"You're the most gorgeous woman in the room," Chandler assured her, and Monica felt herself blushing again. 

Three glasses of wine and an hour and a half later, she and Chandler were walking hand in hand through Central park, the dim lights and sparse people making in incredibly romantic.

For a while Monica forgot about her life, forgot that she was a teen mother, forgot she waitressed for a living. She was sixteen again, walking with her boyfriend at night, excited about what was to come. She had butterflies in her stomach and she was afraid her hands were unusually sweaty. They continued to walk until they found themselves in front of the Plaza Hotel, where Chandler was staying. 

"Do you want to come up?" he asked, his eyes staring straight into hers. he looked confident and composed, but Monica knew her was just as nervous as she was. His hand gently stroked her cheek, and Monica wanted nothing more than to have him again.

"Yes."

******************

Hours later, they lay together in the white sheets of Chandler's bed. Chandler was playing with Monica's hair, gently pushing it behind her ear and then caressing her shoulder and neck. She rolled over to face him, their bodies pressed close again. She gently kissed his cheek, and then stood up, holding the sheet around her.

"Stay," he whispered. 

"Elizabeth," she whispered back. Chandler nodded, resigned, as she looked for her clothes.

"I'll call you tomorrow."

Monica nodded, and then, on impulse, strode over to him and grabbed him. They kissed one last time, and then she left, her head still spinning. She drove to her parents' house and picked up Elizabeth, who was sleeping, and avoided her mother's angry, "What the hell took you so long? It's after midnight?" She only smiled and kissed her surprised mother of the cheek, then left. Nothing, not even Judy Geller's irrepressibly annoying attitude could bother Monica.

There was a message from Rachel on the machine when she got home.

"Well, as you're not there yet, I expect things went well with Chandler. Hope you're having fun being a_ slut_. Just kiddin'. Bye." Monica smiled and erased the message.

*********She awoke the next morning with a migraine. Monica thanked God that it was Saturday and she didn't have to go in until one. She swallowed three aspirin's dry and gave Elizabeth a bottle, recounting in her mind the night before. The experience was worth the headache and nausea. 

Ross and Carol were taking Elizabeth to the zoo today, and Monica called and asked if they could pick her up early. When they got there, Carol offered to change the baby into warmer clothes, and Monica pulled Ross aside.

"I went out with Chandler last night," she said in a low tone. 

"What?" Ross practically shouted. "I mean - what? What were you thinking, Monica?''

"He doesn't know about her," Monica said, titling her head toward her bedroom, where Elizabeth and Carol were. "Well, he saw her, but he doesn't know she's his."

"Why not?" Ross asked in surprise. 

"Because I told him she wasn't?" Monica offered, biting her lower lip.

Ross rolled his eyes. "Good goin'. Are you _going_ to tell him?"

"I don't think so," Monica said. "I don't want to mess up what we have."

"What you _have?_" Ross repeated. "You - you're not back with him, _are you?_"

"Don't act so incredulous, Ross," Monica snapped. "You know how we ended. We're still in love."

"Do you _realize_ what you're getting yourself in to?" Ross asked angrily. "_He_ left _you._ And he's going to leave you again in September!"

"Maybe he won't," Monica said obstinately.

"Why wouldn't he? He's going to Oxford - he can't just stay and not go back!"

"I shouldn't have told you," Monica said sullenly, turning away.

"No, wait, Mon - " Ross said. He took a deep breath. "All right. I guess it's okay for you to see him. I just don't want to see him hurt you again."

"That's exactly what Rachel said. I can take care of myself! Don't worry so much! I know him, and I know he loves me. He won't hurt me, all right?" Monica said, shaking her head and turning away from her brother. "At least I hope not," she muttered under her breath. 

__

I can't wait no more

Since you went away

I don't really feel like talkin'

Don't wanna hear them bug me

Tell me do you understand me...

Aaliyah, "Miss You"


	5. Pretending

A/N: Hey! Well I just thought I'd tell you that this chapter is short and mainly just fluff, leading up to the next chapter... sorry! And honey... don't take it personally - I think it's an honor to be in a story! (you know who you are :D)

CHAPTER FIVE

The next day, Monica was sitting in the staff room of her restaurant, eating a bologna sandwich she'd picked up from Subway, when there was a knock on the door. Monica frowned. Who would be there _knocking?_ Annoyed, Monica went to open the door, thinking maybe it was a lost customer. 

"This is the - " she began as she opened the door, but was cut off by a pair of lips. Chandler threw his arms around her and pushed her back into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. She giggled and pulled away. 

"My God, you scared me!" she cried. 

"Sorry," he said. "But I couldn't resist." He held her at shoulder length and looked at her. "Wow, lookit that apron! You really are cute," he teased.

"Shut up," Monica said, giggling again. 

"Happy to," Chandler said, kissing her. They fell against the wall, making out until they were out of breath. Monica felt a burning, itching desire to rip of all his clothes. Her hands groped for his belt buckle.

"Hey, Mon - " Morgan, another waitress who Monica didn't really like, said as she entered. Monica broke away to glare at her. "Oh, sorry. Who's this?" she asked flirtatiously, smiling coyly at Chandler.

"Chandler Bing," Chandler said, holding out his hand graciously. 

"Morgan Louis," Morgan said.

"He's my boyfriend," Monica said forcefully, putting her arm around Chandler's waist and squeezing tightly.

"I see that," Morgan said, smirking at her. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Chandler. Break's over in ten minutes, Monica." She left, swaying her hips.

"She's seems nice," Chandler said, half-grinning at Monica.

"_Please_," Monica sighed. "The girl is the biggest slut this side of the Hudson. She tries to steal _all_ of the other waitresses boyfriends!" 

"So I'm _your _boyfriend, huh?"

"Oh, you thought you could get out of the title, did you?" Monica asked comfortably. "Well, ya can't." She kissed him again, and both were lost in passion. A few minutes later, Monica fixed her blouse, which had come undone, and said, "I really have to get back to work."

"All right," he said. "Wanna do something tonight? I can get tickets to any Broadway play..." 

"_You_ want to go to a Broadway play?" Monica asked with a laugh as she reapplied her lipstick. Chandler was mature for his age, but not _that_ mature. 

"No, but I figured you would," Chandler said, shrugging. 

"Well, I wish I could, but my Ross and Carol are going out and they're bringing Lizzie back right after work. 

"Ooo-kay," Chandler drawled. He came up behind Monica and put his arms around her, kissing her neck. She closed her eyes, shivering with pleasure.

"I reeeeallly have to get back to work," Monica groaned.

"All right," he said, pulling apart. "I'll call you later?"

"Definitely," Monica said. He started to leave, and turned around and smiled one more time, one dazzling, irresistible smile. Feeling light-headed, Monica put on her apron and went back to the kitchen.

To weeks passed by, and Monica and Chandler saw each other almost every day. It was as though no time at all had passed. They were back right where they'd been before - totally and completely in love. 

But all the time, they were both painfully aware that the summer had only a few weeks left, and at the end of those weeks, Chandler would be leaving. They acted just like they had during that last summer, two years before - pretending everything would go on just like it was, pretending it was an endless summer. Monica didn't want to lose Chandler again, and for more ways than one.

He immediately bonded with Elizabeth - which, come to think of it, wasn't that surprising, considering he was her father. They had the same electric blue eyes and the same little dimply grin. Monica prayed that Chandler would be a typical guy and not notice these things. 

She was struggling with the notion of telling him. It was cruel not to. But if she did, it could ruin everything. He would be angry with her for lying for so long, for withholding their child from him. And then - what would he do at the end of the summer? Would he stay? That was the only reason Monica wanted to tell him. If he knew he had a child in the States he might stay. Or he might leave. For good.

One day after the two week mark, Monica and Chandler were hanging out Monica's apartment, sporadically playing with Elizabeth and making out. They were deep in an intense make-out session when there was a loud _thump_. Monica bolted upright and swiveled around, looking wildly for her daughter.

Then she saw Elizabeth lying on the floor.

Monica and Chandler immediately rushed her to the hospital by cab. She had apparently slipped on a patch of water and was knocked out momentarily. She also had a cut on her forehead from where she'd hit the table, and it was deep enough to require stitches. Monica panicked when she saw her baby on the floor, but Chandler calmly picked her up and carried her downstairs. While they were in the cab, Elizabeth woke up and looked dazed. She began to scream at the top of her lungs.

"Okay, baby, shh," Monica said as she carried Elizabeth into the emergency room. "It's all going to be okay soon. Hi," she said, arriving at the nurses desk. "My daughter fell and hit her head, and, oh my God," she stopped, feeling shaky and hysterical. Chandler put his arm around her and rubbed her shoulder gently.

"Okay, miss, we'll take her right in," the nurse said, looking at the baby. Monica and Chandler followed her into a triage room. "What is the baby's name?" the nurse asked. 

Monica was too caught up in calming Elizabeth to answer, so Chandler said, "Elizabeth Geller."

"Geller-Bing," Monica corrected automatically. 

"What?" Chandler cried, jumping out of his seat. Monica froze, only one thought running through her head.

_Oh, no._


	6. Can't We Try

A/N: Hi! Thanks for reviewing this! Sorry this chapter took so long... I've got a family crises, so I might not post much for a while. Or I might post a lot - you never know. But reviews would seriously make me so happy right now. So please leave one and brighten my day! 

Disclaimer: I don't own the _Friends_, however I do own Elizabeth jean Geller-Bing! So ha!

CHAPTER SIX 

Monica stared at Chandler, who had become very pale and wide-eyed. "M-M-Monica?" he stammered.

"I - I..." she whispered. "I - "

She didn't get to finish. After staring at her, speechless, for another second, he sprinted away. 

"Chandler!" she screamed. 

"Miss!" the nurse said, alarmed. "Miss, follow me." Monica watched as Chandler disappeared through two swinging doors. Feeling ill, she turned her attention back to Elizabeth's, who's wound was now bleeding freely on her white cotton shirt. Monica was startled to feel the warm blood on her chest and arms.

_I messed up_,Monica thought miserably. _I messed up in every way possible._

An hour later, Elizabeth's cut had been stitched up. She didn't have a concussion and would recover soon from the fall. She was laughing at the nurses as they played with her, and seemed to have forgotten she was injured.

Monica, on the other hand, was inconsolable. She felt like the biggest idiot in the world. How could she have forgotten? How could she have blurted out _Geller-Bing_ right in front of Chandler? She wasn't even sure if she was _ever_ going to tell him, and if she was, it certainly wasn't going to be like that. Now he knew, now he hated her - now she'd lost him forever.

"Miss Geller?" a nurse said softly, tapping Monica on the shoulder. "Miss Geller, you can take your daughter home now." The nurse said several more things, but Monica wasn't listening. She was grateful when the nurse handed her an instruction sheet, presumably covering everything she'd just said. She was to bring Elizabeth in if she got lethargic or cranky - back in a week to check on the stitches...

Monica was barely paying attention to anything as she carried Elizabeth out to the emergency room. "Do you have someone who can come to pick you up?" the nurse asked.

A tear slid down Monica's face. "No," she whispered. "There's no one."

The nurse looked incredibly sympathetic, and quickly called for a cab. When it arrived, Monica walked outside, carrying Elizabeth, who was leaning against her mother's shoulder with a pacifier in her mouth. She was passing by a bench when she saw a familiar head - it was Chandler, sitting there with his head in his hands.

"Chandler?" she asked unsteadily. He looked up

"Mon," he said, his voice raspy. "Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she'll be all right," Monica said. "Listen, Chandler - "

"I don't want to talk about it right now," he said. "I really don't."

"Okay," Monica agreed quietly. She wanted to talk about it, but this was better. She looked out at the cab, which was waiting for her in the dark parking lot. "Chandler - please. Call me tomorrow. I'm going to go home now, so please, please come by," she begged. She had to explain everything to him.

"All right," Chandler muttered.

"Bye," she whispered, the tears coming fast. Clutching Elizabeth to her bloodstained blouse, Monica ran in the direction of the cab. 

Rachel received a call from a sobbing Monica twenty minutes later. She couldn't understand what Monica was saying, so she said, "I'll be right there," and raced over as fast as she could.

She found Monica lying on the couch, surrounded by pillows and balled-up tissues. The first thing she noticed was the bloodstain on Monica's shirt.

"_What happened?_" she cried in terror, afraid Monica had stabbed herself and couldn't move. 

"What?" Monica asked confused. 

"You're bleeding!" Rachel yelled, launching herself at her friend.

"Huh?" She looked down. "No, this is Lizzie's blood."

"What? Is she hurt?" Rachel looked confused.

"Yeah, she fell." Monica took a deep breath and began to tell the whole story. 

Rachel sat there staring at her, her mouth wide open. "Oh, no," she breathed. "That's - that's bad."

"Tell me about it," Monica said sarcastically. "And now he probably hates me. He'll never speak to me again. He - "

"He loves you," Rachel assured Monica. "And he loves Elizabeth. I'm sure he'll get over it."

"That's unlikely," Monica said. She puffed out air and closed her eyes.

"Come on, honey, you're so pessimistic! You just have to explain to him that you messed up by not telling him, but that you... you want him in Elizabeth's life, if he wants to be in it. Is that right?"

"Ye-aah," Monica said slowly. "But he won't stay. He's got to go to _school_. England, remember? I just probably won't ever see him again. I can't even imagine..." she trailed off, crying again.

"Hon, I'm sure he'll call tomorrow, just like you asked him to," Rachel said.

But Rachel was wrong. Chandler did not call the next day, or the day after, or the day after that. Five days went by without a word from Chandler. Monica was starting to think that he'd left for good. Then, one day after work, there was a message on her machine.

"Hi Mon, it's Chandler. Um, yeah, we really need to talk. Could you maybe come down to the Plaza after work? Well, if not, please call me. Okay. Bye."

Monica looked at her watch. She had forty minutes before she had to pick Elizabeth up from the baby-sitters. She put her coat right back on and splurged on a cab to the Plaza Hotel.

She raced straight up to his room and was about to knock when she heard a female voice from inside. She paused and frowned, listening intently.

"I have a fantastic lawyer," the woman was saying. "He can get her for you - "

"But I don't want that," Chandler interrupted the voice. "I don't - I don't think I do - " 

"Oh, yes, you do. You have rights! You're going to sue for that child." Monica grabbed the door handle to keep from falling over. Her throat had closed up and she felt like she was going to faint. 

"Mon, I'm not sure I want that," Chandler said. _It's Nora,_ Monica thought, stunned. Monica had met Chandler's mother a few times, but never really liked the woman, which was probably caused by Chandler's less than loving attitude.

"Chandler, you need to understand, what - what's her name again? Monica, is it? - What Monica did is ridiculous. Hiding your own child from you - it was stupid and immature, just a way to get back at you for leaving to go _have a life_!"

"She didn't hide her," Chandler argued. 

"Well, she didn't tell you about her either! No, I am getting that baby for you. Honestly, darling, who's going to win - the nineteen year old or world-renowned Nora Bing? It's no contest. Let me just go back to my room and get my lawyer's number." The door started to open. Instinctively, Monica leapt away, but she wasn't fast enough. The door opened to reveal Nora Bing, primped and as elegant as ever, looking at her, scowling. Chandler stood behind him, looking pained, and then shocked to see Monica there.

And it was Monica's turn to run away.

An hour later, she was clutching Elizabeth and sitting on the couch in the living room of Rachel's spacious apartment, sobbing and trying to tell Rachel what she had just witnessed.

"He's - he's - he's going to try to take her from m-m-me," she sobbed. "His mom was talking about her lawyer," sniffle, "and calling me st-st-stupid." She wiped her nose on her shirt and stared at Rachel with running eyes. "What am I going to do?"

"You're going to stay here tonight," Rachel said. "I've got pajamas for both of you, and God knows enough beds. I'll order Chinese, put Elizabeth to sleep, and talk we'll the whole thing through, okay?"

"Okay," Monica whispered, gratefully handing Elizabeth, who was starting to get sleepy, to Rachel. As Rachel changed her diaper and put her into clothes to sleep in, Monica tried to stop her tears and think rationally.

_I can't believe he's going to try to take Elizabeth from me,_ she thought numbly. _My baby! I knew it was a mistake not to tell him... but even my parents never dreamed this would happen._

When Rachel came back from putting Elizabeth down, she said, "Okay, I have a plan. We're not going to let him take her."

"But I don't have the money for a lawyer!" Monica said.

"But I do," Rachel reminded her.

"No, Rach, I - "

"I won't let him take my goddaughter!" Rachel said with a smile. "Mon, whoever Nora's got, my Daddy's got better."

"What could _Nora_ want with Elizabeth anyway?" Monica wondered.

"Maybe she wants to sell her to the black market baby ring."

"Not _funny!_" Monica cried, hitting Rachel's shoulder.

"Sorry, sorry," Rachel said. "I don't know. Maybe she thinks this is the only chance she'll get to have grandkids. Or kids. Her and Chandler don't get along, do they? Maybe she wants Lizzie for herself."

"Maybe," Monica said slowly. "But she made it sound like she was getting her for _Chandler._ Could Chandler possibly want to take her away from me?" she asked, troubled.

"I'm afraid that looks like the most plausible explanation," Rachel said sadly.

"Then I don't ever want to see him again. And since when do you use the word 'plausible'?"

Meanwhile, Chandler was frantically searching New York. After seeing Monica's horror-stricken face in the hallway, he couldn't erase it from his mind. After she'd run, he'd tried to follow her, but his mother had stopped him by standing in front of the door and droned on about how she would move to England with him to take care of the baby, refusing to listen to Chandler. 

Finally, he'd taken a step closer to his mother, got right in her face, and snarled, "Mother, get out of my way or I'm going to have to move you." Nora Bing had gone slack-jawed, but then remained her dignified pose and gracefully walked away from the door. Chandler had bolted out of the hotel.

He'd gone to her apartment. He'd gone to her work, to her gym, to her dry cleaners. He'd gone everywhere Monica could possibly be. Then, another face popped into his head.

"Rachel," he muttered. He looked her up in the phone book and was on his way to her apartment instantly.

He got to Rachel's elegant building, walked up to the doorman, and introduced himself as Rachel Greene's boyfriend. He immediately let Chandler up. 

Rachel opened the door when he knocked. She gaped at him, and then scowled, starting to close the door.

"Please, let me talk to her," Chandler said, throwing his arm out to hold open the door. "I have to explain."

Monica appeared behind her friend. Her scowl matched Rachel's, but when Chandler stared at her pleadingly, she said, "Gimme a sec, Rach," before pushing Chandler into the hallway and closing the door behind her.

"Mon, what you heard - "

"You know what? I don't want to hear what you have to say. I just want you to know that you are not getting my daughter. You may be her father, but I am her only _parent._ You have been gone for her entire life. There's no way in hell any judge would grant you or your bimbo mother custody."

Chandler felt a spark of anger rise to the surface. "Monica, I don't _want_ to sue for custody - " he began, but she once again cut him off.

"I also want you to know that _I_ am suing _you_ for child support," Monica said briskly, crossing her arms.

Chandler let out an irritated sigh. "_What_ is your problem? I came over here to apologize - and you start yelling at me?! I wasn't _going_ to sue for custody! And I _was_ going to give you all the child support you need! I will give you everything I _have_ if that's what you want!" 

"But I heard - "

"For God's sake, Monica. You heard my mother! She hates not having control of something, and suing is the answer! I would never want to take Elizabeth away from you. You love her, and she loves you, and she doesn't even _know_ me. I'm twenty years old; I go to college in England - what do I want a baby for?!" 

Monica looked hurt.

"No! Not in a bad way," Chandler said quickly. "No, honestly, I - I want her - I want to see her... God, this isn't coming out right." He ran his hands through his hair. "I don't want things to be bad between us. We both made a lot of mistakes." At the look on Monica's face, Chandler said, "Well, I probably made more. But we have a daughter. And if you'll let me - I want to be a part of her life. And yours. Please, Monica. We screwed up - I know that. But can't we work things out - can't we try? For our daughter's sake?"

Monica was silent for several moments. Then she said, "I don't know, Chandler. You left me, remember? You deserted me and our baby when I loved you. But can I let you back into our lives? I just don't know." 

"Well than maybe you need to figure it out," Chandler said coldly. He turned and walked away. "And good luck finding me when you do."


	7. Exhaustion

A/N: Not much to say except sorry this took so long. My grandfather died on Wednesday so needless to say, reviews would be appreciated. Thanks *hugz everyone*. 

Disclaimer: I don't own them although, lord, if I owned Matthew Perry I would be a much happier woman. 

CHAPTER SEVEN - Exhaustion

"I don't believe him," Rachel said exasperatedly a few minutes later after Monica had recounted Monica and Chandler's conversation. "And I don't believe _you_!" she cried, swatting Monica's arm and causing Elizabeth, who was asleep in Rachel's arms, to open up her eyes dazedly.

"What do you mean?" Monica asked sullenly.

"You are so full of _crap!_ Monica, this is Chandler - Chandler, Elizabeth's father? The guy you love? And you just let him walk away! Are you crazy?"

"I - I - "

"Okay, I know he messed up and I know you are going to have trouble forgiving him - blah, blah, blah," Rachel said, rolling her eyes. "But honey - you sleep with his picture under your pillow."

"Not anymore," Monica said defensively. "Know what, Rach? I'm not really up for another one of your unhelpful pep talks." She stood up.

"Fine! And I'm not in the mood for giving one!" Rachel said. 

"Good!" Monica replied, stalking away.

"I've got everything under control here, by the way! I'm happily watching _your_ baby!" Rachel said saucily.

"It's about time you do some work!" Monica cried, walking into the guestroom and slamming the door behind her. She flopped under the bed and buried herself under the covers, trying to erase Chandler and Rachel's faces from her mind.

But she couldn't sleep. His face kept slipping into her mind's eyes, smiling at her...

_Think about something else,_ she instructed herself. _Think about... Dad. Or work. Or television. Or Chandler..._

Monica walked into the staff room at work and found Morgan sitting on the couch, examining her nails. She went over to her cubby and hung up her sweater on her hook. The door to the staff room opened and, to Monica's surprise, Chandler entered.

"Hey, Chan - " she began, but stopped, horrified, as Chandler walked over and sat down next to Morgan. Morgan smiled and turned to Chandler - and they started to kiss!

Monica couldn't move. "Chandler! Chandler, stop!" she cried, appalled. But Chandler and Morgan didn't stop. Morgan climbed on top of Chandler and straddled him. He began to unbutton her shirt. Neither of the two seemed to notice Monica standing in the corner.

"_Stop!_" Monica screamed as Morgan unbuckled Chandler's belt. Their bodies were completely pressed together - and Monica couldn't stop watching the gruesome sight.

"_Stop!_" she screamed, and suddenly jolted upright. Monica looked around wildly, searching for Chandler and Morgan. But... wait...

"A dream," she whispered, putting her head in her hands. "Just a dream." She tried to calm her beating heart and glanced at the clock. 5:48.

What was that psychotic dream about? Was she afraid Morgan was going to steal Chandler from her? No, that wasn't it. Maybe... maybe she thought she was losing him, not necessarily to another woman, but just in general. She couldn't stop him from kissing Morgan, and he couldn't hear her screaming. She was terrified of losing him again. Now she knew what she had to do - unfortunately, it would have to wait.

Day was breaking outside the curtained window, and Monica stood up on shaky legs and threw open the curtain. 

The cool morning breeze instantly made her feel better. Monica remembered the times when Elizabeth, who'd had colic until she was four months old, would be up all night, screaming and crying. Monica would sit by her window in her room at her parent's house and watch the sun rise, feeling the cold nighttime air change to warm, tantalizing puffs, for the lawns lining the street to light up, drops of dew reflecting off the grass. Those were her times. 

Now Monica watched as New York City lit up with sunlight and people walking to work and tourists eager to sightsee filled up the streets. She heard the faint cry of a baby filling the apartment, and followed it Rachel's room.

Rachel was slumped in the bed, sleeping peacefully, her hair askew over her head. Elizabeth was just waking up in the tiny bassinet next to her, one they'd left there almost a year before. Monica smiled and picked up her daughter.

"Shhh," she said, rocking her and kissing her head. "Shhh, shhh, baby. Mommy's here. Mommy's here."

When Rachel awoke a few hours later, Monica had fed and clothed herself and Elizabeth and was playing with the baby on the floor. "Hey," Rachel said, avoiding Monica's eyes.

"Hey," Monica said. "Listen, I'm really sorry about our fight. I was just - upset - but that doesn't give me the right to - "

"No, Mon, I was the jerk," Rachel said. "I knew you were freaked, I shouldn't have kept bugging you. I'm sorry." She held her arms out, and Monica immediately ran into them. "Let's never fight again," she said, grinning at Monica.

"Sounds good," Monica said. 

Eight hours of waitressing, it turned out, was great for becoming so exhausted that you forgot about the rest of your life. 

But as soon as her shift was over, Monica's whole situation came flooding back to her. She knew that she had to talk to Chandler. She called the baby-sitter and asked if she could keep Elizabeth an extra hour, and then splurged on a cab to the Plaza.

She waked straight up to Chandler's room and knocked on the door, unsure of what she was going to do, only knowing that she had to do it, had to talk to him, had to make everything work out. She waited several seconds, then knocked again.

"Chandler?" she called. "Chandler, open up, it's Monica!" She pounded on the door again, getting frustrated. "Chandler, stop being a pussy and _open this door!_"

"Miss, you need to stop drumming on that door," an irritated male voice said from behind her. Monica whirled around and found herself facing a dark-suited man with greasy black hair and a puckered frown on his face. He was obviously a Plaza worker.

"Oh, uh... sorry," Monica said reddening. The man looked her up and down, his scowl becoming even more disgusted. Monica looked down and realized that her short waitress skirt and baby-tee, soiled apron, and scruffy tennis shoes probably did not impress an employee at one of the most elegant and expensive hotels in New York. _He probably thinks I'm a hooker or something. And screaming the word _pussy_ didn't help either_.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave," the man said. 

"Uh, right," Monica said. "Um, could I just leave a message for my friend?"

"You may do so at the front desk," the man said. Monica nodded and let the man escort her into the elevator and down to the lobby. She went to the concierge desk.

"I'd like to leave a message for Chandler Bing in room 4435," she said the man behind the desk. He looked up and gave her the same look the man on Chandler's floor had done.

"And who might you be?" the man asked, wrinkling his nose.

"His girlfriend," Monica shot back.

The concierge opened a book and searched through the pages while Monica taped her foot impatiently. 

"Miss..." he said, looking up at her.

"Geller."

"Miss Geller, I'm afraid Mr. Bing has checked out," the concierge said.

"_What?!_" Monica cried. "But he's - he's not leaving for another week!"

The concierge was still staring intently at his book. Then he looked up at Monica, and then back down. "Would you happen to be a Miss _Monica_ Geller?"

Monica frowned. "Uh, yeah."

The man opened his desk. "Miss Geller, Mr. Bing left this for you," he said, holding out an envelope.

Monica looked at the envelope, and then the man, and then took it. She walked away, stuffing the envelope into her pocket, needing to escape from the disapproving stares and appalled whispers of the people standing in the lobby. She walked down the street and into Central Park, and sat down at a bench near a playground. With shaking hands, Monica opened the envelope and pulled out a letter - and a check.

_Dear Monica_,

_I'm probably gone by now. I'm going to JFK and taking the eight o'clock British Airways flight back to England. I'm sorry I left. I just don't know if things could ever work out. We both have so much going on, so much past and so many memories. Please don't think that I never loved you, that I don't still love you, because I do. I love you too much. And that's why this wouldn't work. I know that doesn't make much sense but I don't know how else to explain it. _

I know Elizabeth deserves a wonderful father, and I can't give her that now. I wish you'd told me about her sooner, Mon, and I wish you hadn't lied to me. I would have tried, I really would have. I wish I'd seen you pregnant - you must have been such a gorgeous pregnant woman - and I wish I'd been there when Elizabeth born, and at her first birthday - but I suppose it's my fault too. I was stupid to ever leave you. I just want you to know that I regret that more than I regret anything else. 

Enclosed is a check that will hopefully make up for all the child support payments I've missed. I will continue to send a check for the next seventeen years, and if you ever need any more for anything, please tell me and I will send more. When college comes along, we'll talk again.

And I want you to tell Elizabeth that if her father weren't such an idiot, he would love her more than anything else in the world. And that he would love her mother too. 

I love you, Monica. This is just what we have to do.

Chandler

P.S. I may come out again in a few summers. If you never want to see me again, I'll understand, but if you maybe want Elizabeth to meet me, I will. Happily.

Monicaswallowed hard and blinked rapidly, trying to stop the tears that were threatening to pour down her face for passerby to see. She pulled the check from the envelope and gasped.

_Five thousand dollars._

_Yeah, I think it's enough,_ Monica thought, her head light. But suddenly, the money didn't matter. All that mattered was finding Chandler. Everything he'd just said - it was true. But for her, it was all a reason to _stay together_. Monica looked at her watch. _Seven fifteen._ That gave her forty-five minutes to get to JFK. She stood up and ran through the park and onto the street. When she reached the curb, she threw her arm out into the street so wildly that she almost fell off.

"Taxi!!"

************

Monica ran into the airport at the British Airways entrance. She raced up a flight of stairs and down a long terminal, following the signs that would lead her to an information booth. When she reached an area with British Airways representatives, she leaned over, clutching a horrible stitch in her side. 

"Miss?" a woman asked. "Miss, cam I help you with anything?" Monica held one finger out, telling her to wait a second. 

Finally, she took a deep breath and tried to talk, but found her mouth was completely dry and she couldn't get her tongue to work right. "Water?" the rep, offered, holding out a water bottle. Monica took it gratefully and swallowed a few sips, and then stood up straight.

"Where's the eight o'clock flight leaving?" she asked.

The representative looked a clock hanging on the wall, and Monica looked at too. She felt her heart fall into her stomach.

"I'm sorry - it's eight-ten. It probably already left the gate." She pointed to a sign that said Gate 4. Monica ran to it.

"Wait!" she screamed to the people standing around it. "Don't leave yet!" A few people looked up at her, and then out the large windows. And then Monica saw why.

A large plane was pulling away from the gate, rolling down the runway.

"No!" she cried, launching herself at the glass. She threw her body up against it and banged on it, as if that would help. "Wait! Come back! Chandler!"

Monica slumped down against the glass, exhaustion overwhelming her. She barely noticed as she was handed water and led to a hard airport chair, where several people who worked at the airport tried to calm her down. She watched the plane carrying Chandler until it was just a speck in the distance. 


	8. Backwards

A/N: Well, I read all of your "Make him come back" and "Suddenly, when she turns around to leave...there is Chandler!" reviews, and believe me, I almost wrote that story! But that would be too easy, now wouldn't it Oliver? Well sorry if this moved really fast... this is DEFINITELY not my best writing but I feel really bad about not posting for so long, so here it is! *Hugs and kisses for Jenni - Elizabeth - Becca - everyone*

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these things except Elizabeth - ha! Although if I owned Matthew Perry - well, let's just say I wouldn't be sitting here writing stories about him... mmmm. 

CHAPTER EIGHT - Backwards

__

8*8*8*Six months later*8*8*8*

Chandler reached his apartment and opened the door. He stood in the doorway for a minute, staring at his bachelor pad. He'd been offered a lavish suite near the campus, but preferred to a little further from school, live like a real man instead of a little boy who was being put through college by his mother.

He sighed, tossing his mail onto the kitchen counter. The apartment was practically bare, with only the essentials - a TV, a couch, a couple of lamps, a bookshelf. But that wasn't really what bothered Chandler. 

No, what made Chandler sigh every time he saw his place was its lack of personal tokens. The pictures, the mementos, the clues that a human being with a life resided there. He had none of those. Because he had no life. Not here in England anyway. He had a few bar buddies, a couple of guys in his classes he could call for assignments, but no one he could call a "friend." And _certainly_ no girlfriends.

Chandler thought of the one thing that had kept him alive most nights, his one intimate possession - the shoebox under his bed that was full of pictures. Mostly, pictures of Monica, or him and Monica, and a few of Monica and Rachel and Ross and him.

Shaking his head, Chandler concentrated on opening his mail. _Bill. Junk. Junk. Stupid advertisement. Who wants to buy a toenail clipper that doubles as a nose hair trimmer?_ Chandler wondered in disgust. Then he came to a real envelope. His first thought was that it was from his mother, "checking up on him" like she so thoughtfully did after ever appearance of a daytime talk show, warning him to look out for paparazzi and crazed fans. But then he saw the return address.

_Monica Geller._

Chandler ripped open the envelope quickly. Monica had never written him, and he figured she probably never would. They hadn't exactly ended things on good terms the last time they'd been together. Although Chandler had wanted nothing more than to stay with Monica and Elizabeth, he knew he should bow out, let Monica move on with her life. They'd both hurt each other, they'd both messed up royally, and Chandler didn't want to screw up Monica's life more than he already had. With him finding out the hard way that he had a child, and with Monica overhearing Nora Bing's rants about taking Elizabeth from her mother, there was a rift between them that Chandler wasn't sure could ever be repaired. So he'd left, hoping and praying that maybe, someday, he would see them again. 

There was a letter, and a picture. Chandler looked at the picture first. It was of Monica, and a little girl - _Elizabeth_, he realized in shock. She looked older - but then, babies did grow quickly. She was even more beautiful than the last time he'd seen her. She had her mother's long, dark, wavy hair, but there was another tinge of color in it - almost like a lighter brown. _His_ hair color.

And Monica - she looked gorgeous too. Chandler stared at the picture for a while, and then read the letter, which was more of a quick note. 

_Chandler_,

_This picture was taken at Elizabeth's second birthday party. I realized you didn't have any pictures of her, and I thought you might want one. I also wanted to say thank you for the money. I really appreciate it, and so does Liz._

Monica

P.S. She asked for Daddy yesterday.

Chandler stared at the postscript until the words began to blur. He slumped against the wall and did the most pathetic thing he thought possible - he lie down on the floor and cried. 

And when he stood up a few minutes later, he picked up the phone, knowing what he was going to do. 

"Yes, British Airways? When is your soonest flight to New York?"

***********

Monica took a pot of soup off the oven and put it on the table. "Rach! Lizzie! Dinnertime!" 

Elizabeth, now two, came scampering out of her bedroom, with Rachel right behind her. It gave Monica a little thrill to think "Elizabeth's bedroom." Up until just two months ago, they'd shared a bedroom, first at her parent's house, then in their tiny one-bedroom apartment. But thanks to her promotion to assistant lunch chef at Morningstar's, and, of course, her newly gained child support, they'd been able to move to a slightly larger two-bedroom, in a better area of the city, right near a fantastic school for Elizabeth to go to once she reached kindergarten.

Monica doled out stew for each of the three of them, and then they all sat down to eat. When she was finished, she picked up Elizabeth and gave her a kiss.

"Who's gonna behave for Aunt Rachel tonight?" she asked.

"Me!" Elizabeth shouted. 

"Well, she's certainly inherited your lungs, Mon," Rachel teased. Monica smirked at her.

"I'd make a snide comment if you weren't baby-sitting my daughter tonight," Monica teased back. She leaned over and pecked Rachel on the cheek too. "Thanks again, Rach." Elizabeth's regular nighttime baby-sitter was on vacation, and Monica had a class tonight at the new adult school.

"It's fine. I love watching her. Who's my favorite little niece?" Rachel asked.

"Me!" Elizabeth shrieked again. 

"All right. Honey, you'll probably be sleeping when Mommy gets home, so Aunt Rachel will give you a bath and tuck you in, okay?" Monica said. 

" 'Kay."

"Eskimo kisses?" Monica grinned and Elizabeth leaned forward so they could rub noses. "Okay, sweetie. Bye-bye."

"Bye-bye, Mama," Elizabeth cried as Monica back out of the doorway and then closed it. She stuck her key in the whole to lock it, and then heard a voice.

"She's so beautiful."

Monica froze. When she managed to turn around, she was staring at Chandler. Again, caught unaware.

"You've got to stop sneaking up on me," she said, her voice emotionless except for a slight, almost unnoticeable shake.

"I'm sorry," Chandler said, taking a step down the hall, closer to her.

"Listen, if you came across an ocean just to tell my daughter is beautiful, then I need to leave," Monica spat, striding past him. She was angry at him - angry for leaving, angry for telling her it was because he loved her, angry for being so damn cute.

Chandler reached out and grabbed her wrist. "I'm an idiot.''

"Again, already knew it," Monica said harshly. She almost immediately regretted her words. Turning around and looked at his hurt face, her heart flip-flopped. "I'm - "

"It's okay," Chandler said. "Don't apologize. Just - hear me out, all right?"

"I've got a class to get to..." Monica trailed off. "But - I guess 18th Century Italian Cooking won't be going anywhere."

Chandler gave her a small smile, and she smiled back. "Then - let's go somewhere. Not in the hall."

"Okay." She looked down and saw he was still holding her wrist. He looked down too, reddened, and dropped it. Then they walked out of the apartment building and Monica led him into the coffee shop next door. The nighttime rush had thinned out, and there were only a few sparse patrons here and there. Monica and Chandler sat on a bright orange couch near the back. 

"Mon," Chandler began, "I know you, uh, weren't expecting me. But I had to come back. Like I said before - I'm stupid. I thought running away and leaving you be would make it all go away. I mean, I'd left you to raise my child - didn't know I had one, but regardless, I abandoned you. To go to a school across the world that I absolutely _hate._" Monica smiled at this. "I come home and I find you, and her, and it's just too weird, because you have a baby that's not mine. But then, wow, outta the blue, she _is_ mine. And I'm so mad at you for lying to me that I tell my mother and of course she goes talking about taking her. Monica, I would _never_ try to take Elizabeth from you. You are the most wonderful mother in the world and you love each other so much. And then, you were mad at me, and I was mad at you, and I no longer had a place in your life. Even though I wanted it so badly, I didn't think I ever could come back permanently."

By this point, tears were welling up behind Monica's eyes. She took Chandler's hands and opened her mouth, but he shushed her. "Let me finish. Back in London - God, Mon, I have nothing. I have never been more miserable than I have been in the last few months. And then I got your letter, and your picture, and I knew I had to come back and see if there was _anything_ for me here, because I realized that if there was and I missed it, I could hate myself forever. And if you wouldn't let me back into your lives... well, then, I'd go home and never bother you again." Chandler took a deep breath. "Which one is it, Mon?"

Monica thought her head might explode from all the emotions that were pulsing through it. Desire, need, understanding, the last rays of anger... and the biggest one, the one that made her mouth dry and her palms sweat. Love. 

And then she kissed him. In that kiss, she told him everything he needed to hear, and he understood, and kissed her back. And when she pulled away, there was a big grin on her face. 

"I love you too, Chandler," she said. "I think - I think we could be together. I think it could work, if we just try." She was almost giddy with relief and happiness. 

"Okay, then, I - I have something else I need to do," he mumbled, suddenly looking like a nervous teenager. Monica frowned slightly - until he slid off the couch and onto one knee.

"Oh my God," she muttered in a weak voice. Chandler reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. "Chandler - "

"Monica, I love you. I love you and I love Elizabeth. I know our life together won't be easy, because we're young, and hell, we're kinda doing the thing backwards. But I haven't stopped thinking about you since the day I left, and my life without you would be completely empty." He opened the small box, and inside was an engagement ring, a stunning, gorgeous engagement ring. Monica's jaw dropped as she realized it was the ring she had wanted since she was 14, the one she'd found a picture of in a catalogue and ripped out and put in her notebook. Chandler grinned up at her. "I was thinking you'd like this one," he whispered. 

"Oh, it's so... it's..." she couldn't find the words. 

"Monica," he said throatily. "Will you marry me?"

"I..." She wanted to say yes. She wanted to say yes and take that ring and put it on her finger, and kiss Chandler until she couldn't breathe, and make love to him tonight, on their engagement night...

"I need some water," she choked. Chandler's face fell, but he stood up, walked over to the counter, and asked the man working there for a glass of water. He brought it back to her, and she took it, drinking it thirstily. When she had drained the glass she looked at Chandler. His eyes were downcast, and the small box was clutched tightly in his hand.

"You don't want to," he said flatly. 

"Yes I do," she said around the lump in her throat. He looked up.

"But..." he prompted her.

"But you live in England."

Chandler's mouth opened. "Geography? You won't marry me because of _geography?_ My God, Monica, you and Elizabeth can come live with me in a second! You can come tonight, if you want to, you can - "

"I can't," she said, interrupting him. "I live _here_. In New York. This is where I work. My family and my friends are all here. I can't leave them - Rachel, and Ross, and my parents. I can't live on a different continent..."

"But..." Chandler said desperately. "But you... I mean..."

"You have no idea how much I want to marry you, Chandler. But I can't leave New York. I think... how could we do this? How can we make this work? Can't you come out _here_?"

"I have to go to school, Monica. If I'm going to support us for the rest of our lives, I have to go to a good school and get a good job...''

"You _just said_ that you hated Oxford!" Monica cried. 

"Well, yeah, but that's where I have to go! My mother is paying - "

"Your mother can't pay for everything forever!"

"And that's why I'm going where she wants me to!" Chandler yelled, standing up suddenly. Monica shrank away. "I'm going to get a good job so I can live on my own! And I was hoping my wife and daughter could live with me!"

Monica was aware of the silence in the coffee house. "Chandler, everyone's looking at us."

"I don't care," he muttered angrily, but sat down again. "I mean, Mon, are you not understanding this?'

"I _am_, but if we're going to get married, we have to make some compromises."

"So come to England with me."

"I can't. You come to New York."

"I can't. Not unless you want to be right back where you started - with nothing. Because that's what'll happen. And anyway, you can't just _drop out_ of Oxford. Do you have any idea how much money my mother would lose?"

"It's all about money, and your mother!" Monica cried. "Why can't it ever be about _us?!?_" She stood up, furiously trying not to burst into tears. "When you think about that, you get back to me." And she stormed away.

A/N: Okay, so I ended another chapter with someone leaving... but I am having trouble with the next part! Please bear with me! And if you hated this... well, sorry. I kinda hate it too. But please don't be TOO cruel. 


	9. Amazing

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews! Wow, it has been a really long time since I've updated... I'm so sorry! I've been sick. And lazy. But here's the last chapter. Enjoy! And thank Becca for encouraging me to finish! *hugs Becca*

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Period.

CHAPTER NINE - Amazing

Rachel looked shocked as Monica stormed back into the apartment. "What's the matter?"

"Chandler proposed to me," Monica said fiercely.

Rachel stopped moving. "Wha - _what?_" 

"He came back out here, and he apologized and we talked and he told me he loved me and then he asked me to marry him. And then - he said we'd have to live in England. And I, of course, said no! But he refused to come live out here - all he could talk about was his mother's money..." She trailed off, the tears coming hard and fast.

"Mommy?" Elizabeth whispered, and Monica felt tiny arms around her thighs. "You okay, Mommy?"

"I'm fine, sweetie," she said, wiping her eyes. Elizabeth was dressed in pajamas and clutching a doll by the hair. "Listen, baby, Mommy needs to talk to Aunt Rachel for a minute, so why don't you go put your dollies to sleep and then we'll come give you a kiss goodnight."

"Okay," she said, yawning, and again Monica thanked God that her daughter was well behaved. 

After Elizabeth had toddled off, Rachel burst out, "Do you realize how many times that boy has made you cry in the last three years, Monica? Do you have _any_ idea? You've cried for him more times than I've gone shopping. It's ridiculous."

"Thank you, Rachel," Monica growled. "But that doesn't help me." She sighed. "God, I want to marry him. I want to marry him and live with him and have sex with him any time I want, and I want to raise Liz with him - I want to have more children with him...''

"Honey, I know how much you want all of that, but look at the _facts_. He lives in England. He _refuses_ to move - he obviously doesn't care enough about you and Liz to move here! I mean, he left you twice, and then both times he suddenly shows up and wants to get back into your life! Do you realize how unfair that is for him to do that to you? And to Elizabeth?"

"We all make mistakes," Monica murmured half-heatedly. "I sure did."

"But you didn't desert two most important people in your life twice! You've been here, supporting Elizabeth, working your _ass_ off to try to get somewhere in life, and he goes off to school on his mother's money, and then he comes back and gets in your pants - "

"_What_ did you just say?" Monica interrupted, her eyes flashing.

Rachel clapped her hand over her mouth. "Mon, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry. I'm just trying to make a point! You can't let him control you like this!"

"He's not _going_ to control me, okay? Until his wises up and decides what his priorities are, I won't even speak to him." 

There was a knock on the door. "Who is it?" Rachel called.

"It's Chandler," Chandler said. "Is Monica there? I really need to talk to her."

Rachel turned to Monica, who shook her head furiously. "No, she's not here," Rachel lied.

"Don't lie to me, Rachel."

"She's not here!" 

"Let me in," Chandler demanded. "Mon, c'mon! We need to talk."  


"Go away or I'll call the cops!" Rachel threatened.

Chandler sighed heavily. "All right. Just - tell her I really need to talk to her. And that I - I love her."

"I will," Rachel said. She looked at Monica, whose eyes were filling with tears.

"See? I can keep him away. He doesn't control me!" she said, before falling into Rachel's arms.

The next day, Monica woke up to a late-February snowstorm and a raging headache. She hadn't been able to sleep the night before and was utterly exhausted. She took two Motrin, dropped her daughter off at the baby-sitter's, and went to work, but couldn't focus on anything. During breakfast by itself, she screwed up two orders and burnt a batch of bread. By mid-afternoon, customers were getting frustrated, her boss was getting angry, and Monica was getting sick. They sent her home with only half a day's pay. 

When she went outside to catch a cab home, the icy wind almost knocked her over. She put her arm out to hail a taxi, and she fell off the curb and sunk both her feet into slush. A chill ran up her body, and she sneezed violently. She was shivering and feeling light-headed by the time she got into a taxi.

She reached into her purse and realized she only had enough cash to pay for half the ride home. She cursed under her breath and told the driver her problem, batting her eyelashes and trying to sound flirtatious, which was quite a challenge with a cold. The cabbie didn't go for it and kicked her out with eight blocks to go.

With her nose running and her head pounding, Monica staggered home. The biting snow cut into her face like tiny daggers, and a sudden rush of wind knocked her hat off her head. She watched it fly away, her hair whipping around her head. 

She was almost to her apartment building when a bicycle messenger - the bane of the streets of New York - came careening toward her. Monica leapt out of the way and landed hard on a patch of ice. She didn't stand up, but sat there, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Monica?" an affectionate voice called through the wind. Monica looked up. Chandler was standing a few feet away, looking down at her with concern.

"Go away," she said, struggling to her feet but slipping on the ice and falling down again. Chandler grabbed her arm and pulled her up. 

"Are you okay?" he asked, steadying her.

"I'm fine," Monica said, wrenching her arm out of his grasp. She strode purposefully away from him.

"Mon, talk to me!" Chandler said.

"No!" Monica cried over her shoulder. 

"Why can't you just deal with this?" Chandler yelled. "Don't be so stubborn!"

Monica whirled away. "Chandler, get out of my face! I have just had the worst day of my life! I got sent home from work early and I _may_ get fired; my feet are freezing, my ears are freezing, my hands are freezing; my nose is running, I've got a migraine, and my _ass hurts!_" she screamed. "I _cannot_ deal with you today!" She tried to run away to her apartment, but ended up hobbling.

Chandler grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. He frowned, then put his hand on her forehead. "Mon, you're burning up! Come on, let's get you upstairs." 

Monica sagged limply into his shoulder and allowed herself to be led upstairs, too exhausted to fight him anymore. Chandler took her into her apartment and sat her down at the kitchen table. He went into her cabinet, pulled out a teapot and some herbal tea, and put it on the stove. Then he took two aspirin out of the cabinet, grabbed a glass of water, and put them in front of her.

"Take these," he instructed. "Then go change out of your cold clothes."

Monica did as she was told, calling over her shoulder, "Don't let the tea boil over!"

When she came back to the kitchen, dressed in a sweat outfit and with her hair wrapped in the towel, Chandler handed Monica a hot cup of tea. She sipped it and it warmed her insides. She relaxed into the couch. Chandler felt her forehead again. 

"You are going to bed," he said immediately. 

"But - "

"Mon, you're sick! You need to rest!"

"But Elizabeth - "

"I will take care of her," Chandler said. "Just go to sleep."

Grudgingly, Monica stood up and shuffled towards her bedroom. "I'm still not talking to you," she said before she closed to door.

"I know."

When Monica woke up, her room was dark. She glanced at the clock - 12:32.

_Shit,_ she thought. She'd fallen asleep for _hours_. But where was Elizabeth? She could barely remember getting home, much less putting her daughter to sleep. She stumbled out of bed and into the hall, where the bright light made her blink. The television was on in the living room, and, squinting, she followed the noise.

Suddenly, she got her answer. Chandler was asleep on her couch, snoring softly. Monica leaned against the doorframe and smiled at Chandler's prone figure. He'd made her get in bed. He'd taken care of Elizabeth and, presumably, got her into bed. Monica considered waking him to tell him to go home, but then pulled a blanket off the couch and covered him with it. She picked up the remote and turned off the TV.

Chandler sat up. "Huh? Who's there?"

"_Now_ you wake up," Monica said, shaking her head.

"What?" Chandler said, staring at her, his eyes bleary with sleep. "Mon? How are you feeling?"

"Much better," Monica said. 

"Elizabeth is in her bed," Chandler said with a wide yawn. "The baby-sitter told me what to do - she's a good one, wouldn't leave the baby with me 'til I told her I was her father." He yawned again. "Well, if you're all right, I'll be leaving - "

"No," Monica said suddenly. Chandler looked up at her. "Stay." She sat tentatively on the couch, and he sat next to her. She leaned into him, and he put his arm around her. 

"Monica - " Chandler whispered.

"We'll talk in the morning," she said, snuggling up against him and closing her eyes.

Monica woke up to somebody prodding her shoulder. She opened her eyes groggily found herself face to face with her daughter. Elizabeth was standing there, grinning at her, her brown hair tangled, a doll clutched in her hand. Sun was streaming in through the windows, indicating that it was at least mid-morning.

Smiling, Monica settled back into Chandler's warm arms, which were still wrapped around her. Then she wordlessly opened her arms up for Elizabeth, who crawled onto the couch with her. The movement woke Chandler.

"Hey," he said dazedly.

"Morning," Monica said.

"Morning," Elizabeth echoed. 

"Lizzie, honey, this is Mommy's friend Chandler. You met him when you were littler but you probably don't remember." She would not introduce him as her father - _not yet,_ she thought, _not until I'm sure he'll be around for a long time. I won't do that to my daughter._

Elizabeth nodded. "He gave me a cookie las' night. Before bed."

"Cookies before bed? What were you thinking, Chandler Bing?" Monica teased.

"I guess I'm not quite up to par on the parenting skills," Chandler said seriously. "I'm hoping I'll be around long enough to learn this time."  


"Yeah," Monica said, smiling at him. "So do I."

Monica, Chandler, and Elizabeth spent the rest of that day in the apartment, watching TV and staring at the blanket of snow covering New York City. They did not talk about their relationship or their situation in front of their daughter, and Monica could only hope that Elizabeth hadn't noticed them shooting glances at each other when they thought the other was looking.

Monica was thrilled to see the Elizabeth welcomed Chandler into her arms right away - she'd been worried about the little girl's reaction to someone new. But over the course of the day, Monica realized she would adjust very well. 

After Monica put Elizabeth to bed that night, she went into the kitchen to find Chandler doing the dishes and listening to a tape of Arethra Franklin. She stood in the door and grinned, watching him dance and sing and wash and dry... it was all too adorable. And in that moment, it felt natural. Monica could imagine Chandler being there every night, doing the dishes together... singing, laughing, being a family...

Monica didn't realize that she too had begun to sing out loud until Chandler spun around, blushing. 

"I - it was in the tape player..." he mumbled, his cheeks flaring up.

"You are so cute," Monica said, shaking her head.

"Really?"

"Really." She sighed. "But we still need to talk." She went into the family room and he followed.

"Well, it's certainly an improvement from _not_ talking," Chandler said, plopping down on the couch next to her. 

"Now, don't say anything until I'm finished," Monica said. She took a deep breath. "I've made a decision. We can't get married."

Chandler stared at Monica, his mouth slightly open. "I... I... why not?" he asked in shock. 

"You live in England, and I live here. I can't leave New York. You have to stay in school, I _want_ you to stay in school."

"I don't understand - " Chandler began, but Monica cut him off.

"_But_," she said with a smile. "If you give me that ring, I may be able to make you a deal."

"What do you mean?" Chandler asked in confusion.

"You go to school and I'll stay here with Elizabeth," Monica said. "And then, after you've graduated - maybe we can get married _then_. It's going to be difficult to have a long distance relationship, and I wish that you could be here every second, but - but you can visit, and we can visit you, and Elizabeth will have her Daddy. You can still please your mother and go to school, because even though I don't agree with everything you've done, I have to do what I think is best for us. It won't be easy, but - well, nothing we've done has been easy. How does that sound?"

Chandler stared at her for a minute, lost for words, and then grinned. "Amazing," he whispered, and kissed her. "It's sounds amazing." 

__

June 1990 - 3 Years Later

"When will Daddy's plane get here?" Elizabeth whined, pressing her face against the glass.

"Soon," Monica said. "It'll only be a couple minutes, all right honey?" She was, if possible, even more impatient then her daughter. She picked up the newspaper sitting on the seat next to her and began to read it absent-mindedly. 

"There it is!" Elizabeth shouted. Monica looked up quickly and smiled. There was the British Airways airplane, taxiing along the runway toward the gate. Monica stood up and, clutching her daughter by the hand, hurried to the gate.

As they waited, Monica reflected on the past few years. It had been almost three years since Chandler had proposed to her; three years since she'd put on that engagement ring but not been married. Chandler had gone back to school in England, but for the first time Monica didn't feel like he was deserting her. They had a deal - they would be together, they would be a family, as soon as he finished school. He came to New York during the summertime and over the holidays, and Monica and Elizabeth even flew to Europe to see him a few times. And although it had been a difficult relationship, it had all be worth it, because now Chandler was coming home for good. 

Several minutes later, people began coming out of the terminal. "Mommy, pick me up, I wanna see," Elizabeth cried, and Monica held her up. Their eyes swept over the crowd, watching families reunite and friends hug. 

And there he was. Chandler strode out of the gate and into the throng, carrying a suitcase and a duffel bag, looking tired but happy. "Chandler!" Monica called, trying to edge toward him.

"Daddy!" Elizabeth yelled, waving her arms in the air.

Chandler turned and faced them, and grinned. He pushed through the crowd until he was right in front of them. Monica just stared at him wordlessly for several seconds, and then he dropped his bags and opened his arms. Monica flung herself at him, and he held her and Elizabeth in his arms like he'd never let them go. 

"I missed you guys," he whispered into Monica's ear. "I missed you so much."

"But now you're home," Monica said, grinning wildly. "And you'll never leave us again. I guess your heart is still mine."

"It never belonged to anyone else," Chandler murmured, kissing Monica. "And it never will."

THE END

A/N: I hope you didn't hate my lame ending TOO much and that it's not too sudden. I'm really sorry, but writing conditions have not been excellent for me lately. Thanks for reading this story! Love you all! *mwah*

-Jen


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